


Greedfall-The Legate's Lessons on Life and Love

by Carmen_Willow



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Person Kurt and De Sardet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmen_Willow/pseuds/Carmen_Willow
Summary: Kurt and De Sardet: The Early Years.
Relationships: Kurt & De Sardet (GreedFall)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Greedfall-The Legate's Lessons on Life and Love

  1. **Kurt**



I did not expect my life to change, not on the day of my biggest disappointment. Even when it happened, I didn’t realize it, not then. I was too busy seething inside. Even as I walked up to the railing overlooking the training ring of Serene’s Palace, I was working hard to control my feelings. His Highness, the Prince, was waiting with two children, a boy and a girl. Spying me, the Prince turned to the children and gestured to the center of the ring. “Go on Constantin, Amelie. Show your new Weapons Master your skills.”

Weapons Master—Childminder more like, watchdog for the little royals. A few short weeks earlier, I was happily commanding my first unit of the Coin Guard as a Lieutenant, visions of future promotions and glorious command running through my head. One word from the Prince of Serene, and I was now a bodyguard, instructor, and sometimes nanny to the Prince’s household. I swallowed back my disappointment because orders were orders, no matter how smelly they seemed because the Coin Guard was my life, quite literally my life.

The offspring of two Coin Guards, I didn’t know either of my parents, only their names. As soon as my mother was fit for duty after my entry into the world, I was given to a wet nurse to be raised until I was old enough to begin training. My wet nurse’s scent, the softness of her breasts as I leaned against them, the flowers she used to freshen her clothes, these were the only things of beauty I remembered from childhood. The records said I was five when they put a wooden sword in my hand to learn the profession into which I’d been given at conception.

I had my mates and comrades who shared my training, my struggle. Mates who understood the burdens and rewards of our life with its warrior culture, its code, its motto, “Fight with honor.” It was a rather common beginning in life for a child of no means, often brutal, and painful; but I’d survived it well enough. Thanks to the martial parents who passed on their stature as well as their gift for combat, I showed a talent for swords, maces, axes, and clubs. If it was a weapon you could swing or thrust, it was a weapon I could wield. My talents brought me to the attention of important superiors, and I was sent for special training, training that still haunts me.

As harsh and demeaning as the elite training was, it led to my elevation into the officers’ ranks, and an early command at twenty and three. Now, that same set of circumstances took away my command before it had begun, and gave me the thankless task of being the Weapons Master to the Prince’s son, Constantin, and his niece, Amelie de Sardet.

The boy, or rather young man, was the spitting image of his father, so much so that the two of them standing, side-by-side, struck exactly the same pose of easy grace. The girl, now the girl was like them solely in the fair color of her eyes and her light skin. She looked like no one in her family - not that she was homely- she was a pretty child, but there was nothing of the look nor manner of the royal family in her. D’Orsay and his son were both known for their brilliant minds, and ruthless tempers, though the Prince kept his under control. The boy was known for his volatile outbursts. The de Sardet girl was also known to be intelligent, but her temperament was described as thoughtful and amiable, preferring conciliation and compromise to conflict.

There was also the fact that she bore a curious mark on her face, a birthmark unlike marks anyone had seen except on a few of the natives from the island of Teer Fradee. There were whispers that she was her father’s by-blow on one of the native women. This theory was belied by the fact that her mother, the Prince’s sister, was clear in her deep affection for the girl, and it was obvious that the child knew only a mother’s love from the Princess.

Constantin and Amalie took their places in the center ring and began to spar with one another. The young lord was already becoming a man, but the little lady was caught in that awkward stage between the cherubic sweetness of childhood and the seductiveness of womanhood. All bones and kneecaps, dressed in boys’ breeches and coat, and half a head shorter than her cousin, she nonetheless was the better fencer. Even though there were errors in her stance and moves, she had speed, balance, and grace. Constantin did well enough, but it was clear that she had a gift he lacked.

I was relieved to see few errors or bad habits that would need to be corrected. Their previous instructor had taught them well. There was more for them to learn, though. His Highness wanted them both to learn how to use firearms as well as heavier melee weapons, make traps and place them, make bombs and grenades, and learn how to throw them. 

As the Prince watched his son in the ring, I studied him and saw no regard in his expression. The boy could have been a stranger. The Prince’s tone, when he spoke, was dispassionate, cold. “Prepare them for anything, any foreseeable situation or calamity. I don’t want my son’s ability to defend himself to be limited to one form of training. The same must be taught to my niece. Constantin is quite attached to her, so she must be prepared as well. I cannot trust my son to be entirely on his own. She will be groomed alongside him.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without a word to the children, the Prince left. Now, it was time to begin. Leaping over the railing and down into circle, I stood tall over them legs spread, hands on waist. In a voice only a little softer than that I used for recruits, I said, “All right, Greenbloods, to me, to me. We have work to do.”

  1. **Amelie**



He was extremely tall, our new Weapons Master, and much younger than Master Higgs ever was. “What do you think Constantin? Is he going to be difficult?” I whispered, leaning toward my cousin.

“In what way?”

“Cruel perhaps. Maybe he will beat us if we do not live up to his expectations.” I studied the man. He did not look cruel, but one never knew. Constantin’s father could be quite cruel in an acerbic way, with his tongue rather than his arm. Still, our new instructor’s blue eyes seemed kind enough.

“If he tries to harm you, I shall kill him,” Constantin added.

“No, you mustn’t. Your father would be furious.”

“Then I shall merely beat him soundly,”

The man leapt down into the arena with an easy grace, his knees bending slightly to cushion the drop. “All right, Greenbloods, to me, to me. We have work to do,” he thundered.

Coming up to him, I asked, “What do we call you, sir?”

“The Ultimate High and Mighty?” He mused. “No, I suppose it won’t do. He stared at the two of us with narrowed eyes, concentrating. Then he shrugged his shoulders. “Sir or Master when we are training, in the hall, or about, Kurt shall do. Understood Greenbloods?”

“What is a Greenblood?” I asked, curious at the title.

He smiled then. I liked his smile. He seemed not so frightening, so overwhelming. “You are. You are so inexperienced in the ways of combat that your blood would run green as new grass.” He looked over to Constantin. “You too, my lord. But make no mistake, we shall change that, the three of us. We shall make warriors of you both. Now, come close.”

Our work began as Kurt, watched us over the next five days. We used different weapons: one-handed swords, two-handed swords, maces, hammers, morning stars, axes, and, finally, firearms. During those five days, he said little, only the occasional, “higher,” “left-foot,” “faster, de Sardet,” “pay attention, Highness.”

On the morning of the sixth day, he called us into the ring. “And now that I’ve seen how completely hopeless you are at defending yourselves, we truly begin to teach you how to survive.”

And begin we did.

  


  1. **Kurt**



I worked them hard and long. Every morning, up at dawn for a run, a long run. Constantin growled and moaned until his lack of breath kept him from grousing. The girl, de Sardet, stayed quiet, saving her breath for the long jog. Her eyes told the story, though, eyes rolled, and glared, and as the run took her energy, her eyes turned inward, gathering the last of her reserves to finish the course. In the beginning they both had to finish in a walk.

The girl’s mother took me to task the next morning.

“Is this necessary?” she asked. “Amalie came in from your lesson and ate nothing. Then she slept, an entire hour, during the day! She hasn’t napped since a runabout baby!”

In that moment, I envied the little one to have such a mother, a mother who sought to protect her from harm. “I promise you, Highness, it is necessary to her survival. She will be smaller than most of her opponents, so she cannot overwhelm them. She must outlast them. I will run her until she can outlast those who would kill her. I promise you; she will be back to normal in a week or so.”

The Princess thought a moment and smiled. “I see. Thank you for explaining, Kurt.”

“Please, Your Highness, you may ask me anything about your daughter’s training. I shall answer fully.”

“Very well. You may go.”

It took a month for both to be able to finish at a run. At that point, I lengthened the course.

“Damn, why?” Constantin barked. “Why must we go longer?”

“You tell me, Greenblood,” I countered.

“You’re torturing us,” Constantin blurted out, “making us run until there is nothing left of us but skin and bone.”

“Am I?” I asked, amused at Constantin’s constant need to take everything personally.

“You are building stamina in us, stamina so that when our opponent tires, we still have energy and strength to continue the fight,” de Sardet managed in between breaths.

“Your mother tell you that?” I asked.

“No,” she shook her head once and shrugged her shoulders. “I realized after a week that when we worked in the ring, I could last longer than before, and I was quicker as well.”

“Well done, Greenblood. Clever of you to winkle it out.”

“That’s my cousin!” Constantin shouted, smiling. “So clever and bright.”

It was hard to keep from smiling, but I managed. “Clever, but she still cannot parry decently nor riposte at all.”

The girl straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin in resolution. “That is true, Master, but I will learn.”

So serious, that child.

  


  1. **Amalie**



A girl who has no father often looks for one in every adult male she meets. I certainly sought a father in my uncle, the Prince, but he was not a man given to much affection. There were others, particularly my tutors, but none quite matched the father I’d created in my mind. I sought my father in many men but never Kurt.

Adults like to imagine that children never think lusty thoughts; but I was thirteen, and I lusted after Kurt moments after he was introduced to us. How could I not? Tall, black hair, blue eyes with a hint of sadness in their depths, and yet a smile that could melt the coldest woman. I knew in an instant that I wanted him to be mine. I didn’t understand how I wanted him to be mine, not yet, but I knew. I drove myself to the edge of sanity trying to please him. To run without complaint, to take a blow without a cry, to become the best melee fighter I could. I wanted him to notice me, to think of me, to approve of me. I would have done anything, but all he wanted from me was a better swordswoman. So, I gave him that.

For the next two years, martials arts was all I cared for much to my mother’s despair. As to my other studies, history, politics, strategy, economics, I ignored them, I ignored them until I was summoned into my Uncle’s presence.

When the servant led me to the throne room, I knew I was in trouble indeed. Uncle always admonished from his throne. Admonishment was not something one wanted to suffer, not his at least. I approached to the proper limit, bowed and waited. He kept me waiting for many minutes, but I knew enough not to complain. At last he fixed me in his steely gaze.

“Your professors tell me that you no longer attend to your studies as you once did, Amalie. That is not sufficient.”

Remembering not to roll my eyes, I replied, “I have been working hard on my martial arts, Uncle. (I hoped calling him “Uncle” might soften him a little. It did not.)

“You are expected to do _both_. I will settle for no less than excellence in everything you do. You are to be my son’s closest advisor. You must be exceptional in all things.”

I did not bother to ask if he demanded the same from his son. I knew the answer. He did not believe that Constantin was capable of anything more than being a figurehead. The Prince’s first son was the Prince’s pride and joy, the apple of his eye. Constantin was just the spare, and a poor one at that as far as d’Orsay was concerned, particularly after his eldest son died. I was only thirteen and a half, but I had been raised in the ways of power from birth. I knew my master’s mind as I knew my own. He wanted to extend his dynasty. I was a necessary tool to be wielded in his search for greater glory, just as his son was. A grand political marriage for my cousin. My role? Not yet determined.

Nonetheless, I returned to my books. It did not take long enough for my Weapons Master to notice. He found me in the palace gardens, sitting on a bench, reading.

“I don’t see you in the practice ring as much as before. Have you tired of your training, Greenblood?” He asked.

“My Uncle asked that I pay more attention to my other studies for a time. I am sorry if you do not approve.”

To my surprise, Kurt smiled and sat beside me. “On the contrary, Greenblood, I agree with His Highness. Sharpening the mind is as important as sharpening your sword. Would that I had more access to books. The Coin Guard library is quite limited.”

“What would you be interested to read?” I asked, my heart leaping in my chest at his nearness.

“History, science, geography, general knowledge.” He cocked his head to one side. “I’d like to know more of the world.”

“I can give you books,” I said eagerly. When I saw the look on his face (books were so expensive) “ _lend you books_ , I mean. I have some that are mine alone. I would be happy to do so, if you promise to return them. Mother would be angry if I lost them,” I added.

He thought about it a very long time, but then he gave me an appreciative look. “I would. Thank you, Greenblood. I would very much like to read your books.”

“Stay here, I shall return forthwith.” I ran to my room and gazed at my titles. I chose a history tome for him as he’d mentioned it first. Kurt was still waiting when I returned. “Here, this is the history of the Alliance. It’s well-written.” I held the book out and felt the warm brush of his fingertips as he took it from me.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said. It was the first time he’d called me that outside of formal court affairs. I was thrilled.

“You are welcome, sir.”

I rode the wonder of that moment for days. Constantin was the one who called me back to earth. “You can stop mooning over him, cousin. He has a woman of his own.”

I’d been watching Kurt from the balcony above the training area as he went through his own morning routine. I looked to the sky and shook my head. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You are so transparent! Rhapsodizing about our Sword Master like a lovesick calf. He’s an old man, Cousin, and you haven’t even seen your first blood yet.” Constantin said.

Furious, I rounded on him. “How dare you! Which of my servants is spying for you? And he isn’t old!”

Constantin backed away both hands up in surrender. “But you are a child to him. His woman has breasts and hips, and you haven’t begun to bud out yet. You’re still a child, at least to Kurt.”

“You’re lying!”

He laughed. “About what? If you don’t believe me about Kurt, you can see for yourself. They regularly meet in the Coin Guard’s hay barn near the barracks. Most of the guard take their women there.”

I burst into tears, ran for my room, crawled into my bed, and told my mother I was ill. I had so worked myself into hysterics, that by the time mother felt my head, I was warm. Tucking me into bed, she brought me soup and sympathy, and then she left me alone to sleep. I did.

I began to stalk him as only a fourteen-year-old girl can stalk her first crush—badly! I already knew his morning routine, and I adjusted my own so that I could be there the moment he entered the training ring to drill. He was using a heavy wooden two-handed sword, something he often did to keep arm strength and stamina at peak efficiency as he moved through his exercises. Only when he sparred with someone near his ability, would he risk using a metal sword. Decent blades were expensive and deadly. Even a dulled blade could be lethal, and Kurt with a metal two-handed sword in hand was a ferocious opponent. Only the best held their own against him. Even with the heavier wooden sword, he moved with lightning speed. I almost forgot my personal desire for him in my admiration for his skill. I did not move until he finished, then I left as quietly as I had come.

After two mornings, he looked up to where I was watching. “If you insist on being here early, Greenblood, you may as well come down and train as well.”

I suppose he thought I would be embarrassed or discouraged by the early hour, but I was thrilled. I ran down the stairs and he threw a wooden bastard sword my way. I caught it and stood beside him, moving slowly through the warm-up routine. Unlike our daily lessons, Kurt said nothing to me about my form. Once he’d finished with the exercise. He turned to me.

“Fight with honor,” he demanded, and came at me. It was over in seconds. I lay in the dirt of the training ring, my sword halfway across the space and an aching arm where he’d struck me with the flat of his blade.

The pain was intense, and my eyes watered, but I refused to wail no matter how hard it hurt.

“Go on, put the sword away and get back to your breakfast,” he told me.

I nodded, still in too much pain to speak, and I went away.

I was back the next morning. Another bruise later, I once again lay in the dirt.

“Greenblood, you’re not ready for me yet. In a year, mayhap, or two—”

I jumped to my feet, furious. “How can I learn if I cannot watch?”

“You are not ready for the two-handed—”

“That is utter nonsense! At least allow me to watch.”

Kurt shook his head. “No, and if you continue to hector me, Greenblood, I will find you another Sword Master. Either you trust my judgment or you do not. I don’t want you watching and then trying without my supervision. I do not want you riddled with bad habits I shall have to break. Run along, Greenblood.”

To my utter humiliation, I did cry then. I rushed, again, to my room (Is there anything so emotionally tiring as a prepubescent girl?) angry, and frustrated, and very, very confused. It took a while to calm down. Once I had recovered myself, I determined to infiltrate this meeting place of which Constantin spoke, and see for myself this woman who had Kurt’s eye. I began my reconnoiter that very evening. There was a storage shelf above the hay loft of the barn. It was small, and hot, and uncomfortable, but it afforded me an amazing view of the loft through the space between the guardrail and the floor of the loft. All I had to do was lie flat behind the rail which was very wide to prevent hay that was stored there from falling over the edge.

Once my mother put me to bed, I would slip away to my hidden perch, waiting for the time when Kurt and his lady love would come. I learned many things during that time that a girl of fourteen need not know. At least, not a girl of my birth and class. I saw men and women together in acts of fornication that I never knew existed. I was shocked and titillated by the sights and sounds to which I had exposed myself, but I continued to occupy my hiding place.

The mornings following my adventures, were horrific, for I was tired, and slow, and I couldn’t pay attention during training. Kurt rebuked me, of course, and I tried, but it was a bad week in the training ring. I could see that he was troubled. Still, I wasn’t going to give up my quest for the answer. I needed to know what Kurt wanted in a woman.

It was the sixth night of my quest when Kurt and his woman finally appeared in the barn loft. The woman was everything I was not: brunette, voluptuous, outgoing. She laughed and teased him unmercifully, and Kurt was enjoying it all, smiling as she let down her hair and opened her blouse to expose her breasts. He touched her and when he bent and put his mouth to her nipple, I felt it deep inside my own body. Even then, I managed to stay quiet, but when Kurt pulled his shirt over his head I gasped. His back was a crisscrossed grid of fine white scars. It was obvious that he’d been repeatedly whipped. When he turned around, I saw that his chest and belly had not escaped the lash. That Kurt had scars was a given. Every soldier bore them as a part of their profession, but these were not the scars of battle but of torture.

“Who is it?” Kurt called out looking upward.

I held my breath, hoping against hope that he would assume it was nothing. I hoped in vain.

He shielded the woman with his body as she pulled her bodice closed. “You’d best go, Gwen. Let me deal with this.” He leaned over and bussed her cheek. “Next time.”

The woman, Gwen, left the barn.

Kurt turned back to the loft once more. “Come down, now. It will be worse if I must come after you.”

I waited until I was certain that “Gwen” was gone. I stood up. Kurt’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in anger. I had seen my Sword Master, peeved, miffed, and frustrated, but until now, I had not seen him angry. At this moment, he was very angry.

“Lady de Sardet, come down here, _now_!”

He was not yelling, but it felt as though he was. The use of my title, the quiet emphasis on “now,” it did not bode well.

When I stood in front of him, hands behind my back to hide the trembling. I tried to face him bravely, eyes on his, but I was too ashamed to maintain my bravado, and I lowered my gaze.

“How _dare_ you intrude upon my privacy. I may be at your family’s beck and call as part of my work, but once a sennight my evening is my own, and you have imposed on that. I am in your employ, but I am not a thing with which to amuse yourself when you are bored. This is the prank of an ill-bred boy, not that of a lady. What did you hope to gain?”

He stood over me, hands on hips, and I all I wanted to do was run. I kept my eyes averted and stayed in place.

“Look at me.”

He was still bare to the waist. I couldn’t look.

“ _Look at me!”_

“Your scars. You’ve been whipped, repeatedly. I—the shock.”

“Damnation!” Kurt took up his shirt. Then, he grabbed my wrist. “Come along, my lady. Time to face the consequences.”

To my utter shame, he hauled me in front of my mother.

“My lady, your daughter has taken to hiding in the hay loft of the guards’ barracks barn. Spying, not—I cannot say how long this has been going on, but I suspect it is something you wish to discover?”

(My mother’s eyes widened. Obviously, she knew what occurred in the barn at night. My face grew hot as shame and humiliation took hold.)

“Thank you, Kurt, for bringing her to me. Does anyone else know what she’s been doing?”

“No, my lady. I made certain we were alone before I forced her out of hiding.”

“Again, thank you. And if Amalie knew how—she would thank you as well.”

Kurt said nothing more. He merely bowed and left with one last glare at me.

Once we were alone, my mother turned to me, her head tilted, brows knit together in dismay. “Amelie, what were you thinking?” How could you embarrass Kurt who has been so diligent in your training?”

I shook my head. I could not confess that jealousy had driven me to the barn loft.

“Tell me what you saw, child,” Mother said.

I started to shake my head.

“You saw men and women, together, mating, yes?”

“And men and men.”

My mother rolled her eyes. “Oh dear. Why? If you were so curious, why did you not come to me? I would have explained.”

When I remained silent, Mother shook her head. It was clear, she was extremely disappointed in me. I tried to blink back tears, but it was too much, and they fell to the tiles, splashing at my feet.

“Constantin. Did he tell you about the barn?” Mother inquired.

“No,” I said, too quickly. Mother knew that I was protecting him, yet again.

“And now a lie to make your disgrace complete.” Mother came to me and took my hands. “Come with me, my girl. You will be confined to your room for two days, and after that, you are going to begin lessons in the proper behavior for a lady of quality.”

“But, my training, my martial training—”

“That is over for the time being, my brother’s insistence or no, I shall have my way in this.”

“Mother, no!”

“Yes.” She led me into my room, and took both my hands in hers. “I am calling on you to do the right thing here, Amalie, the honest thing. Promise me, as a de Sardet, that you will yield to the discipline I am imposing on you now.”

“How long?”

“I am not certain. We shall have to see how well you lend yourself to learning your proper role in this world.”

“But—”

“Promise me.”

I felt the warmth of my mother’s hands over mine, saw the love for me in her eyes. She was goodness and love itself. I could not deny her request. “I promise, Mother.”

“That’s my sweet girl. Now, you rest, and I shall dress and have conversation with my brother.”

“Momma, please do not betray Constantin. You know how his father will be if—”

“If I can avoid it, I shall, but no promise, Child. Now, rest.” Mother turned and left the room, and I began my sentence.

Mother kept her word, and I kept mine. I was banished from martial training for the duration, and was forced to learn dancing and court etiquette (I knew a great deal already, but to my surprise there was more), and I had to dress—in a dress, and a corset, a cul, and stockings with garters, and heels—women’s heels. Mother no longer let me cut my hair, and every day it was done by my mother’s lady’s maid. I had to take tea, and learn to serve it.

This was all hard enough, but for many weeks, I was only allowed to see Constantin at Court functions, and I saw Kurt not at all. At the first opportunity, I cornered my cousin and asked him about Kurt’s absence.

“There is an uprising in the North. Father asked Kurt and others to go and give him a report. He wanted fresh eyes on the situation.” Constantin explained. “Listen, Cousin, what happened? Why were you sent to Coventry*?”

“I went to the Coin Guard’s barn to observe,” I whispered behind my fan.

Constantin’s eyes grew large. “Cousin! I never—obviously, you didn’t betray me to Father or I would be dead now. “

“My Mother didn’t betray you as part of our bargain. I agreed to all this falderol, if she would protect you.”

“Again, you save my life!” Constantin said. “When does your sentence end?”

“On my Quintus Decimus! Once I am formally presented to your father on my fifteenth birthday, and attend my ball, I am free to return to martial training once more.”

“How did they catch you?”

I glared at him. “I am not sharing that, Constantin. It was entirely too humiliating, and you shall never know.”

“You spied on Kurt. It’s obvious. Such calf-love, such adoration _, you_ had to know what his woman was like.” Constantin’s eyes were alive with mischief.

“And you set me up!” I replied, my fan fluttering faster and faster as I became more agitated. “You did this to me.”

Constantin was immediately contrite. “Oh Cousin, had I known, I would never, but I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t, you usually don’t. You are so intelligent. If only you would pause and use that marvelous brain of yours instead leaping into situations.” I retorted. It was an old argument. I never made large changes in Constantin’s behavior, but sometimes I effected small ones that made a difference.

He sighed. “Well, truth be told, if I’d known if was going to cost me your company, I might not have goaded you into going there. Sorry.”

I was about to say more, but my recently appointed duenna approached. I curtseyed to my cousin and went to the lady before she could overhear us. As we left the throne room, I glanced over my shoulder at those enjoyable pastimes Constantin represented and from which I was banned.

Later that evening I went to my mother. “May I have permission to write a letter of apology to Kurt?” I asked.

Mother sighed and took a long moment before answering. “Yes, you may, but you must allow me to read it before you transmit it to him.”

I agreed. My actions had damaged my mother’s trust in my good sense. It was only fair that I submit to her demand.

_Dear Lieutenant:_ (I wrote. I chose his more formal title deliberately as I could no longer presume the easy familiarity of the past.)

_I recently intruded on your privacy and that of your guest, an action I now realize was a rude presumption on our relationship and very insulting to you. Perhaps forgiveness is too much to ask, so please accept my acknowledgement that my actions were wrong, and I am ashamed of them._

_Lady Amalie de Sardet_

My mother looked up from the note and nodded once. “Very appropriate. I shall see that it is forwarded to the Lieutenant.

  1. **Kurt**



When the little de Sardet stood up in the hay loft, a host of emotions hit me at once. Shock and anger, disbelief that the girl could behave this way, but most of all, embarrassment. I was mortified to think of the girl up there, watching as I fondled a woman like any stable boy. My anger came hard on the heels of my humiliation. How dare she intrude on my personal life. How dare she be a mirror in which I saw myself a lesser man than I wanted to be. Had it been Constantin, I would have boxed his ears and made life miserable in the training ring for week, but the girl was a different matter.

“Look at me!” I demanded, repeating it when she wouldn’t, yelling at her until she confessed that it was the scars on my back and belly that had startled her into betraying her position. This only deepened my resentment. Those scars were a reminder of a horrible and shameful episode in my life, a time I tried to forget.

Underneath all that, was fear, fear that the girl would ruin herself out of curiosity, or in a stubborn attempt to prove herself as intrepid as her cousin. Despite her skill and valor in her training, she was still a female and would always be so. I had been the one to find her spying, but others of my brethren would not have been so kind. Some would have taken her presence as an invitation. Ultimately, it was this that forced my decision to take her to her mother, a decision that was the right one if not the kind one.

I did not see the girl again before I journeyed north at the behest of the Prince, but the Princess stopped me in the courtyard one day after I had revealed the little one’s indiscretion.

“Lieutenant, I wanted to thank you for bringing Amalie’s conduct to my attention. She will not be training with you for a while, but I wanted to assure this is not due to any feeling of mistrust of you on my part. On the contrary, I am deeply indebted to you for exposing her indiscretion to me before it could become public. I have let my brother have his way with regard to her education for too long. When I discuss this with my brother, I will make certain he understands that you have done our family a great service in revealing Amalie’s reckless behavior before she could be permanently harmed.”

I was touched by the Princess’s concern for my feelings. “The little one’s valor and curiosity sometimes outweighs her good sense, but not often, your Highness. I am only glad that I was the one to discover her there and not someone else.”

“As am I. Please, take care and be well on your journey.”

I thanked the Princess for her kindness, but I did wonder if my new temporary posting was a part of de Sardet’s punishment. When we arrived north, I realized that this was not the case. The Prince had good reason to desire fresh eyes on the situation there for the war was not going well. The army was bogged down at the front. What I and the other observers found was a combination of fraud and embezzlement on the part of someone in the ranks of the Prince’s regiments that was costing both coin and valuable time due to lost inventory, and a natural reluctance of one regiment of Coin to fight another over the exact placement of a border.

The Coin fight one another. As an overarching Mercenary Company of great repute, we are not just a mercenary company we are THE mercenary company that each city state wishes to employ. Naturally, this means that there are times when we must fight one another instead of bandits or barbarians or lesser household guard units.

It can be quite difficult to engage in battle and find yourself fighting to the death with a man or woman who trained beside you as a young recruit. It lowers morale on both sides of the conflict. This combined with the fact that replacement gear and rations were missing served to slow the conflict to a crawl. It took some weeks to discover our gang of thieves. Once we did, they were hanged, drawn and quartered in front of the rest of our regiment as a lesson to all of the consequences of stealing from the Prince d’Orsay. The other two advisors returned to Serene. I was promoted to Captain and put in charge of the Company who appeared to be the most reluctant to fight. My orders were clear: Teach our enemy a lesson and teach my company that anything less than whole-hearted combat was not acceptable in the Prince’s guard.

Six months later, the lesson was learned, or at least the two leaders had had enough and had reached an agreement, and my unit brought up to speed. I was ordered back to the palace and my company placed in other hands once more. I was furious about this. Surely, I had proven my ability to lead. Why was I not allowed to remain in charge of my company?

It was Commander Torsten, the man in charge of all the Coin Guard who gave me the news in person. When I protested, he explained. “I want you to remain close to the Prince and his family. They like and trust you, and you know the Court at Serene better than anyone. In addition, the Prince asked for your return. While I do not appreciate our clients telling me how to run our Guard, I could not argue with the fact that you are the best person for the work. You are very loyal to the Guard, you always have been, and you will do as ordered.”

“But I want to command, sir. I have earned that privilege, and I deserve to be able to enjoy the spoils of war as is our right!” Torsten knew what I meant. The person in charge of a unit got the first choice of any spoils or loot taken from the battlefield. It was how the Coin “saved” for their retirement if they were lucky enough to remain alive. While being at court had a certain cachet, there was damned little money in it aside from my normal wage.

“I take your point, Kurt. It isn’t right that you not be compensated. You will retain the rank of Captain with the requisite increase in pay and in addition, I shall see to it that you have a regular bonus so that you can put something aside.” Torsten took a purse out of a safe and handed it to me. “You are more valuable to The Coin as a confidant to the Prince’s son and bodyguard to the family. This purse is only the beginning. I promise you more coin will follow.”

“Sir.” I did not thank Torsten. In truth, I did not much care for our Commander on a personal level. However, that did not matter. He had been elected by the senior officers because he was adamant in pursuing better contracts for the guard as a whole, and he was our supreme commander. If he wanted me in Serene as bodyguard to Constantin, then it was my duty to obey.

I remained another sennight as I handed over command of my unit and waited for the next caravan going back to Serene. I would accompany them and command the unit guarding them on their journey. We were halfway back to the City when I realized that I was actually glad to be returning.

  1. **Amalie**



“Hold still, Lady de Sardet, and pull your stomach in as far as possible.”

I did as my maid bid, and suffered as she pulled the strings of my corset even tighter than before. “I cannot breathe!” I protested, all for naught. 

“My lady, my apologies, but if you are to wear your dress….”

“I know, I know, get on with it,” I barked, and then shook my head. “I am sorry, Jeanette. I do not mean to be sharp with you.”

Jeanette looked around at me. “I understand, my lady, and you will forgive me when you see how beautiful you look in this gown. After all, tonight is your Quintus Decimus, and you will meet every eligible bachelor in the City.”

“That I will.” My face must have shown my disdain for Jeanette gave me that curious look.

“Surely you must be excited to meet such handsome and eligible men, my lady. You like men, yes?”

I laughed at that. “Yes, of course I do. Men are quite marvelous in their way. It’s just that I am not this sort of woman, a woman who waves a fan about and dances in a gown. I simply cannot see myself married and confined to a house where my entire world is attending to my husband’s desires.”

“Ah, you want to run free with your cousin. You want to explore, to see new places do new things, wear your pantaloons and coats.” Jeanette replied.

“Exactly, but Mother...” I sighed. My mother wanted me to understand what my options were, that I might find a man I wanted to marry and give children. To her, I was absolutely perfect in every way. She did not see the mark on my face that set me apart from everyone else n Serene. As I had grown, my mark had grown as well, becoming more visible with every year. It was some kind of birthmark, the like of one I’d never seen on anyone else of my acquaintance. I was pretty enough, and rich enough, but always not quite normal enough for many. Mother didn’t understand. She couldn’t see the reality beyond her affection. In her eyes, I was perfect. “…Mother has her dreams. Sadly, they aren’t mine.”

“Well, in any event, my lady, you are ready.” Jeanette drew me over to the mirror.

The woman in the mirror was tall and slender. The tight corset I wore, and the low cut of my gown made my breasts look large and my waist tiny, emphasizing the curve of my hips. The gown itself was a color somewhere between gold and ivory and matched my hair to perfection accentuating the whiteness of my skin. My lips were painted the color of summer cherries; who knew they were so plump, so full? Jeanette had darkened my eyebrows and lashes, highlighting my dark blue eyes. My long hair, usually braided and out of my way was curled and curved and plumped high on my head leaving my mark entirely exposed. It was my wish that it be so. I wanted no one to say I tried to hide my blemish.

I couldn’t believe it was me. That was some other woman staring back at me, someone I did not recognize. “Jeanette, you are a wonder-worker.”

Laughing, she handed me my gloves and drew on her own. She would accompany me this night, carrying extra handkerchiefs, holding my dress up if I had to relieve myself later, carrying a shawl on the chance I was asked to view the well-lit gardens behind the palace, and any other small thing I might need for the evening.

I went downstairs to find my mother waiting for me. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she smiled and held out her arms to me. “Oh daughter, how beautiful you are.” She hugged me gently, careful not to crease my gown or muss my hair. “Come. To the Palace, and your Quintus Decimus ball.”

The Carriage ride was short. I protested when I discovered that we were not walking, but Mother insisted that I had to arrive in a carriage. The reason became apparent when I saw that the streets were lined with people waiving little flags in the same color as my gown with our House’s insignia on them. I blushed at the unwarranted attention, attention given for the mere fact that I was a female and fifteen, but there was no help for it, this was the protocol, the ritual, the ceremony of my passage into “womanhood.”

The palace was alit with torches outside and candles in every window facing the street. There was a crowd waiting to enter, but they parted like sheep when the sheep-dog arrives. Our footman helped me down while Jeanette fluffed (yes, _fluffed_ ) my skirt before we three proceeded inside. I took a breath and stood up straight, chin held upright, the phantom book on my head remaining in place as a glided into the main throne room, now ball room for the evening.

The Prince and Princess d’Orsay sat on their respective thrones while Constantin stood to his Father’s right, dressed most appropriately in his formal uniform as the heir apparent. When he caught my eye, he winked. I arched an eyebrow slightly but did not smile. I was not to smile until the formal presentation was concluded.

The Major Domo announced, “Your Highnesses, the Princess de Sardet.” 

Mother and I walked to the appropriate mark and curtsied.

“Rise,” my uncle said.

My mother spoke. “Your Highnesses, may I present my daughter, the Lady Amalie de Sardet.”

At this moment, I sank into the deepest of curtseys.

“Rise, Lady Amalie de Sardet, and welcome to our Court.” 

I rose and happened to glance once more in Constantin’s direction. And there he was, dressed in a brand-new formal uniform, the uniform of a Captain of the Coin Guard. Kurt. It was Kurt, Kurt, home again. I broke into a smile. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

My uncle’s face lit up in a rare smile as he rose and came down the steps, kissing me once on each cheek. “You look lovely, Amalie.” He turned to Mother and kissed her as well. To the Court at large he said, “I hope you will all join in welcoming my niece into our company, and I wish you all a pleasant evening tonight as we celebrate her Quintus Decimus.”

With that, the crowd broke into polite applause, and my Uncle tucked my hand into the curve of his arm and escorted me around the room, introducing me to the most important people. Once this was accomplished, he made a motion to the orchestra and they began a Branle which I was expected to lead with my Uncle. My joy at knowing Kurt had returned put a bounce in my step and my Uncle noticed.

“It pleases me that you are so engaged in this event, Amalie. I was certain you would not be so enthusiastic.”

“I am sorry I gave that impression, Uncle. It is a lovely event so far, and I thank you for it.”

“You are most welcome, my dear. Your Mother was right to insist that you begin your training as a woman of our House. It pleases me that you have put your mind and heart into your lessons because I have great plans for you. You must be both an enchanting woman and a competent martial artist. For this reason, you shall resume your martial training once more, but I also want you to sit in on the Council as my secretary there. I shall expect you to remain quiet, take good notes, and learn the workings of government. Constantin will sit on the Council, though he will not yet have a vote. I want you to know what he knows; I want you to hear what he hears.”

“Why?” I asked as we moved through the steps of the dance, circling with the others, weaving in and out.

“Because you will listen as well as hear. You will comprehend what he does not, and he will listen to your counsel before he will listen to mine.” The Prince smiled down at me. “The true lessons are just beginning, my child, and I expect you to pay attention and learn.”

“Yes, Uncle, I mean yes, Your Highness.”

“Good.”

My uncle did not speak to me for the remainder of the set. When he returned me to my mother, I was immediately set upon by Constantin.

“My father seemed pretty chatty as you danced, cousin. Care to share?” He asked smiling.

“He said you were going to sit on the Council, and I am to be his secretary and take notes during the meetings.”

Constantin pulled me to my feet. “Come, let’s dance. If we do not take the floor, some young fool of a noble will ask you to dance, and we won’t be able to talk.”

As we took our places, Constantin added, “Yes, a seat on the Council but without a vote. At least you shall have a genuine occupation as note taker. I am merely there to listen. Father doesn’t believe I am capable of anything more.”

“Not true, Cousin. He wants you there to learn how things are done, how rulers, rule. He is preparing you to take his place someday.”

“Only because there is no one else but me.”

Constantin’s grip on my hand grew so tight that I winced and pulled it away. “Ouch!”

Instantly contrite, his ice blue eyes softened and shrugged his shoulders. “Apologies. Come, let us forget my father and politics and just enjoy the dance.” He whirled me about in La Volta, which had become all the rage of late (as my dance master assured me). Constantin and I were well-matched as partners and had practiced together often. He easily lifted me, his hands scandalously on my waist and just under my bust, his knee against my hip to perform the lift. The floor emptied as we gracefully moved through the steps. I could not help but laugh softly each time he swung me high into the air. It was mid-flight that I caught Kurt’s eye. I was stunned: he stared at me so intently, I almost missed a step coming back down. Constantin covered so well that no one else seemed to notice and we finished the dance to considerable applause.

Holding my hand, Constantin bowed with a flourish, taking me with him before leading me off the floor to my mother. I half expected mother to disapprove, but smiled at me. “Ah, Amalie, you are so lovely. I could not be prouder. If only your father could see you, my girl.”

I started to demur, but a young noble appeared before me and asked for the next dance before I could say anything. And so, it was for the rest of the evening. I danced until my feet were numb, until the false dawn showed on the horizon. Back in my room, I tried to sleep, but I was still too excited to settle down.

Instead, I changed into breeches and a shirt and went downstairs to the practice ring, hoping to exhaust myself enough to sleep with a little swordplay only to find it empty except for Kurt. He wore no armor, only his singlet, pantaloons and boots, and he was attacking one of the practice dummies furiously with his long sword, the thud of his Zwiehänder. and the “whomph” of Kurt’s exhale were simultaneous with each flurry of cross strikes. The strawman diminished in size quickly. Within a moment the mannequin was nothing but wood.

I leapt over the railing to land beside him. “I believe he is dead, Master.”

Kurt swung around, his sword in high position, swiftly moving downward.

I did a quick back flip and the blade passed harmlessly by me, though it was a near miss.

Kurt immediately dropped to one knee. “My lady, I…I did not, forgive me, I didn’t….” his voice trailed away.

“You are not to blame; I am the one who startled you and leapt into the ring. Please get up. You did nothing wrong. It is my fault. I forgot the first lesson you taught me.” I went on one knee in front of him. 

At first, he looked puzzled but then he nodded his head, his face a stern mask. “Yes, you did. I thought I taught you better than to startle a swordsman with a weapon in hand. Whatever possessed you to do that?” He leaned forward and put his hand under my elbow, drawing me to my feet as he rose to his own.

“You were attacking the mannequin as if he were a true Demon. I felt sorry for the poor thing,” I teased.

He turned away, offering no counter to my tease, wiping his sword with an oiled cloth. Without looking at me, he asked, “Why are you awake at this hour? You should be resting after your night of revelry.”

“I was too excited to sleep. I thought I would burn off the energy here.” I looked around. “Where is everyone?”

I watched as Kurt put his Zweihänder carefully back into its long scabbard. He turned then. “Those not on watch are still sleeping. Most were awake all night seeing to the security of the guests. His Highness granted them an extra four hours leave time to recover.”

“And yet, you are here, harrying a poor straw man to death,” I countered.

“Yes.” He said nothing more.

Clearly, he did not wish to speak with me. I could not keep my embarrassment from showing on my face as my cheeks flamed red. “I’ve intruded on you yet again. Forgive me, Master.” I rushed away before I could humiliate myself further.

Upon reaching the safety of my room, I paced about, confused and completely at a loss. Obviously, I was not forgiven. Things must be irrevocably ruined between Kurt and me. Evidently, he despised me now and couldn’t bear the sight of me. At that point, the tears came. It was strange; there wasn’t much that made me cry, but Kurt had the ability to send me into a storm of emotion. I cried until I was almost sick with it, but at last, I had nothing left in me, and I fell asleep.

  1. **Kurt**



How much can a girl change in a few months? By all the gods, when Amelie de Sardet was announced for her Quintus Decimus, I foolishly expected to see the child I’d left behind when I went north. As she walked into the throne room in her gown of gold, I was thunderstruck. No longer a girl, but a beautiful young woman, she strode into the room, more beautiful than a rainbow, more radiant than the sun, her hair done up exposing her graceful neck, delicate collarbones, and arresting birthmark on her lower cheek and jaw. I admired it all: her beauty, and her valiant refusal to hide what some would consider disfigurement.

It took all my training to stay still, to keep my expression blank. Never had I felt more unbalanced. Never had I felt so wretched, so alone. Until now de Sardet was an urchin, an amusing child who entertained me with her wit and ability to learn. Now, I could see that she was everything a woman of Quality should be, and far beyond me, a mere soldier. I watched as she and Constantin danced, a perfect pair, moving so easily through to the seductive rhythms and steps. Her eyes met mine, and I saw how happy she was, alive and untouched by sorrow or shame. I knew then. It was my task to protect her, to keep her from harm until the day came when she chose someone who would care for her. I hoped it would not be Constantin. Cousins sometimes married, but I knew that rather than see to her needs, she would always have to see to his

No, the danger was that I would let her see too much. I was her bodyguard and Master at Arms. I had no place in her life other than that, so I had to be strong. I had to remain that symbol of safety. I could not allow my own feelings to interfere. Resolved, I watched as she danced the night away in the company of the nobles of Serene.

When we were finally released from our duty, I tried to sleep, but de Sardet was there, in my head, in my thoughts. She was haunting me, and I had to exorcise her. Dressing, I took my sword down to the training ring and began my training routine. I moved through my warm-up exercises, slowly at first, then with greater speed, but it wasn’t enough. She was still there, in my thoughts, in that damned dress, so beautiful, so unattainable. I moved to a mannequin and began striking in earnest, over and over until the muscles screaming in my body overwhelmed the picture in my head. ‘One more,’ I thought, ‘One more.’

“I believe he is dead, Master.”

I thought that, somehow, I had summoned her forth. Forgetting the weapon in my hands, I swung around, watching as she executed a back flip that kept me from harming her. Sick at what I had almost done, I fell to one knee. She was dressed in breeches, boots, and shirt, but I could not unsee the woman, the beautiful woman who now knelt on one knee before me and begged my forgiveness. I spoke harshly, the fear that I might have harmed her, coming out as anger.

She tried to make light of it all, but I would not let her. It was better to push her away, to let her see my terror as anger. Hurt and humiliated, she fled. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to call her back, but I managed to remain quiet. Better to distance myself from her, better to remain in my assigned role. With a sigh of regret, remorse, relief, I gathered my things and returned to the barracks.

  1. **Amalie**



Despite my unhappiness, I appeared the next morning at the usual hour for martial training along with Constantin. To my own surprise, I did not confide my interaction with Kurt to my cousin. It was too raw and hurtful, too private to share. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but when I entered the arena, Kurt said, “Welcome back Green Blood. After we warm up, I want you to pair up with Rolf so that I can see your level of conditioning after so many months absent from training.”

His tone was professional and disinterested. To my surprise, it made this meeting easier than I’d feared. “Yes, Master,” I replied.

We warmed up and I proceeded to spar with Rolf using an arming sword. Despite my absence from formal training, I had done what I could in the privacy of my rooms to maintain my conditioning. I also had to thank my dancing lessons as another medium that kept me fit. For this reason, I was able to hold my own if not outright best my opponent.

Kurt watched, arms crossed, as Rolf and I did our best to overcome one another. When it was obvious that the best either of us could hope for was a draw, Kurt ended it, saying, “Well done, Greenblood. I see that not all your time has been spent on dresses. And your firearms? Were you able to practice with those?” 

“Alas, Master, I was not able to use my pistols and long guns.”

He nodded. “Very well. Tomorrow bring your weapons and meet with Jurgen.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now, you and Constantin, long swords.”

Constantin and I took up our two-handed swords and went to work.

After the practice, my cousin and I broke our fast, changed our clothing in order to attend the council meeting. As I walked into the hall, Kurt came toward me and fell in step to my left. “You are my bodyguard today?” I asked.

“Yes. To the door of the council room. I’ll wait for you there.”

“Wait in the library. I’ll use that door after the meeting. Less chance of being harangued by some courtier.”

Kurt nodded and stopped at the door as I joined Constantin inside. He took the seat to the right of his father’s chair while I took my place in the left. I had to remind myself not to fidget as we waited for the members to appear. Constantin kept plucking at the feathers from his hat, a certain sign that he was already bored with the entire affair.

“Stop, cousin, you will look more like plucked chicken than a man of fashion if you keep at your hat that way.” I warned.

Constantin rolled his eyes, but he did toss his hat in a perfect arc so that it landed on a table behind me. “Rather be out hunting,” he groused.

I started to remind him what an honor it was to be on the Council, but before I could say anything to the point, ten people ambled into the chamber, looking somewhat bored with it all. A large quantity of time was spent by all taking snuff and removing gloves, though, I did notice that all were in their places by the time my Uncle appeared.

The next few hours were a revelation for me. Constantin and I had spent many hours studying history and government with Professor De Courcillion, but this was my first introduction to the real world of government, the gritty, grimy, back-and-forth, give and take of opposing views and interests.

It all could have been a disaster. It all could have dissolved into chaos. The men and women at that table were utterly used to having their way, and it was only my formidable Uncle who kept them in check; not with bluster, not with rage, but with a combination of icy contempt, sudden warm regard, or a mildly humorous comment. I realized that he was the master of the moment, the minds, and the hearts of his nobles. It was in this instant that I understood that my real education was about to begin. I was thrilled. Constantin, on the other hand, was bored. I was able to keep him quiet during the meetings, but afterward, when alone with his father, he was quite vocal in his protests.

“Why must I remain quiet Father? I have ideas, suggestions. Why can I not share them in Council?” Constantin demanded.

My Uncle bit his lip, inhaled deeply and grasped the sides of the table as if for strength staring down at the papers in front of him, papers I had drafted. “I want you there to learn, to understand how government actually works. The time will come when you will have a full voice in Council, but for the time being, you must be a silent participant.” With that, my Uncle shot Constantin such a look—an expression caught somewhere between frustration and anxiety. “You are my son! You are the heir to all I have built, and someday it shall be yours to rule. But not yet! Constantin not yet!”

Constantin pushed back so quickly from the table, his chair rocked over and hit the floor. He picked it up and slammed it back in place. “Never if you’d managed another child with Mother. I know, I know I am your last resort to keep the power of running the Congregation in the family. But if there were anyone—”

“And, yet, there is no one else!” Uncle thundered. His voice rang against the stone of the Council room. In a lower tone, he commanded. “And so, my son, you will do as I say! Is that understood?”

Constantin left without another word.

I started to leave, but my Uncle shook his head. “Stay.”

I sat back down.

For a long moment, I waited in silence. The Prince rubbed his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed, grimacing at what must have been severe pain, blinking his eyes against the light streaming in through the uncovered windows. I knew the rumors that Uncle had horrible headaches, and I suspected I was seeing evidence of that fact. “Be a good girl and draw those shutters closed.”

I did as I was bid. When I returned to my table, Uncle said, “Amalie, I give you a commission. You are to be my son’s advisor, his conscience, his still, small, voice. It will not be an easy task. Bah! He is so unlike me, so different in temperament, I have no ability to converse with him, let alone guide him.”

_(Not alike? Really?_ I thought to myself, having heard the rumors of my Uncle’s temperament in his youth) “I—”

“It shall not be easy, my dear. I am giving you a difficult, perhaps life-long task. I would not place this burden on you save for the fact that you, and perhaps Kurt, are the only ones who can persuade Constantin to be sensible.”

“But Uncle, he’s—

“Don’t try to defend him, Amalie. I can see, very well, his good qualities, whatever he might think. He has a brilliant, quick mind. His is a mind filled with possibilities, imagination. And he’s incredibly loyal: to you and to Kurt. He has a great capacity for joy. I see that. As a leader, I am required to be able to judge people, their strengths, their weaknesses. My son cannot be excluded from that judgment, a fact Constantin refuses to accept.”

“Constantin is my best friend, Uncle.”

“Indeed. If my eldest were still alive and Constantin the second son, I would marry you to him so that I could be assured of your lifelong commitment to him. Sadly, I must marry him into a powerful house, securing an ally, or marry him to someone from Theleme or the Bridge Alliance to secure a treaty.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking (Constantin, though I loved him was the last man I would marry.) I could only thank Fate that the Prince did not see me as a viable spouse for his son. “Constantin will hate that.”

“Yes.” The Prince shook his head. “We will postpone that necessity as long as possible and allow your cousin to mature a little. No, Constantin will need a venue, a place to grow away from me. I realize that. At the moment, there is nothing, but…well, go on my dear. You’ve listened to your uncle long enough.”

I hastened away, desiring only a quiet place to ponder the things the Prince shared with me this day. I was under no impression that he cared for me; on the contrary, I knew that he saw me as a useful tool. With this in mind, I used the door that led from the Council Chamber directly into the palace library my way out of the walk through all the courtiers and favor-seekers waiting outside the main door.

I loved the palace library. It was a large, tall room, at least two stories high, with a north wall that was almost entirely glass. The window wall was my Uncle’s creation, and its construction was extremely expensive. The light streaming in from the north made it easy to read and study the thousands of books that were shelved there. There were times when the room was filled with scribes, assistants, and secretaries, seeking answers to their employer’s questions. At this moment, so near the noon hour, it seemed deserted and quiet. I was glad. I needed the quiet to think. I headed for my favorite table, one half-hidden by a shelf from the rest of the room.

Turned the corner and rounded the shelf, but to my surprise my little hideaway was occupied by Kurt. I had forgotten that I told him to wait for me there. He was seated at the table, hat and sheathed sword to his right, his head propped by his left arm as he bent over a book, his right hand flowing down the page as he read.

“Excuse me, Master,” I said.

Kurt, ever quick rose in one fluid motion. “Pardon me, Lady de Sardet. I let the time run away with me.”

“Master, I—”

“Kurt, my lady. In the ring, I am your weapons master. Here, in the library, I am Kurt.”

I shook my head. “And must I be Lady de Sardet? May I not simply be Green Blood?”

He almost smiled at that. Almost. He glanced around the room, at the books and the tall window. “This is a different environment, and out here, ours is a different relationship.”

I didn’t want the formality; I didn’t want more distance between us and I said so. “I don’t like that. It feels wrong. Please, if you will not call me Amalie, at least call me Green Blood.”

His eyes widened at my given name, but he smiled at ‘Green Blood.’ “No, my lady. You are a young woman now. It would not be proper, except in training, of course.”

Realizing he would not bend in this; I changed the topic. “May I be so bold as to inquire into what you are reading?”

Kurt looked down at the tome on the table. “More history. I enjoyed the book you lent to me and found myself wishing to know more. His Highness has been kind enough to grant me permission to use the library in my free time.” Indecision crept into his expression as he studied me. “Clearly, though, I must resist this temptation while I wait for you to finish your work with your Uncle. I allowed myself to be distracted.”

“There is no reason that you may not put the time you are waiting to good use. Please, feel free to read what you will until I come through that door.”

He said nothing for a long moment, his brows drawn together in thought. Then, his face cleared, and he said, “It would be better than waiting for you in the antechamber and missing you entirely. “Very well, then. I shall wait for you here each day, until the watch changes. Take pity on my replacement, though, Green Blood, and use the door he or she will expect.”

“Agreed.” I said at once. “Come then.”

Kurt closed the book, put on his sword and hat and put the book back on the shelf before turning to me. “You seem troubled.”

“It’s Constantin and his father. I understand what His Highness is trying to do, and I understand my cousin’s frustration and not being able to participate. If he trusted his father more, or if his father treated him with more respect—” I stopped there because I saw on immediate solution.

“The lad needs a trial of manhood, a quest, or a challenge, not only for himself but also for his father to see his worth.”

Before I could say more, Kurt added, “Come Lady de Sardet, surely it must be time for your midday meal.”

I laughed. “And yours, I expect. Ah, well, let us go then.”

  1. **Kurt**



When Lady de Sardet came around the shelving that offered a modicum of privacy, I was quite embarrassed. I had allowed my interest in the book I was reading to distract me from my duty. Though she sought to put me at ease, I was deeply upset with myself for failing in my duty to her. Still, our solution simple enough, and safe enough. I could hear the muffled conversation from the Council chamber, and while I could not make out the words, I would know by the tone of the voices in the room beyond if there was danger to confront.

Indeed, that meeting in the Prince’s library set the tone of our relationship for many years to come. In the training ring, I was her Weapons Master. I was in charge and to be obeyed. In the chambers and halls of the palace, I was her bodyguard and a silent servant to her safety. In the library, though, we were merely fellow bibliophiles and historians, two people who loved history and books and learning. We were also the two people who seemed the most concerned about Constantin.

You think a simple soldier like me couldn’t possibly be interested in history, in bettering himself, in educating himself? You would be mistaken. My earliest recollections were always about the how and why of things. How did steel come into existence? Who thought of combining iron with other metals such as chromium making it stronger than either metal separately? Who first realized that accelerating a lead ball through a narrow chamber with explosive powder could create a weapon of unbelievable destruction like the cannon, the rifle, and the pistol? How did he or she think of it? For that matter, who invented the shield wall? In which battle? I also wondered about the world around me and why things were as they were, the sky, blue, the grass, green, the flowers, bright and aromatic. For what reason, by why means?

I sought the answers from people around me, but they often had no answers for my questions. Frustrated, I asked my youthful comrades who were often of no help, but finally, a grizzled veteran showed me where and how to obtain the answers I was seeking. He took me to a bookseller’s stall in the market place, the subscription libraries of the cities (and how to sneak into them). I learned to buy, sell, trade and borrow books, keeping at least one with me at all times. That old veteran saved my sanity, mayhap even my life for the books helped me heal and stay whole.

In the beginning, I wanted to know more about my profession, (staying alive is a powerful motive to better oneself), but later my desire to know expanded into other areas: science, politics, philosophy, religion. There were few areas I did not at least touch upon. In the darkest years of my life, access to books was denied me, but by then, I had so many books in my head that even during the worst tortures I endured, I could go into those pages in my head and live there for a time. The Prince had granted me a greater boon than gold when he granted me access to his library.

My life settled into a routine with my two charges. Early mornings were dedicated to combat training, midmornings were the daily Council meetings. After that, my charges often went off to tour the city, with Constantin leading the two of them into some questionable situations. De Sardet, even reluctant, followed her cousin into danger again and again. I wanted to shake some sense into the two of them, but remembered what it was like to be sixteen, seventeen, twenty, twenty-three. The positive side of it all was the real combat experience they received as a result of Constantin’s reckless behavior. The other bodyguard and I did our jobs and kept them alive and whole, and able to end the conflict before death ensued, but there were times when it was a near-run thing.

It came to a head after a tavern fight, instigated by Constantin in which de Sardet was injured by a flying tankard. She suffered a deep cut to her scalp which was bleeding profusely as scalp wounds do. She also seemed a little disoriented, sitting on the floor rather dazed.

As soon as Constantin was safe, I rushed to her side, carried her to the nearest table and sat her on it knocking bottles and tankards to the floor. “Water,” I shouted. When no one moved, I glared at the young lord. “Damnit, Constantin, get some water! Edwards, keep watch.” To the tavern keep I yelled, “You, man, a clean cloth—a _clean_ cloth!” 

That in hand, I dipped it in the water, and pressed it hard to the wound. After a long moment, I lifted it. The laceration wasn’t as bad as I had feared. I pressed the cloth to it again. “Green Blood, hold it there, hard, to stem the bleeding.”

“Yes.” She did as I commanded. 

“Green Blood.”

“Ooh, what happened?”

“Flying tankard.”

“Ah.”

“Cousin, I am sorry this happened. All my fault! All of it.” Constantin stood there, repentant.

“It’s all right,” De Sardet managed. “I should stand up.”

“Oiy, who’s to pay for this mess?” The barkeep bawled out from behind his bar.

Constantin tossed his purse at the man. “There’s more than enough.”

Green Blood stood and wobbled. I put an arm underneath de Sardet’s elbow hoping that this support would be enough, but it was inadequate. We made it a few paces outside when she stumbled and started to sink to the ground. Mumbling a curse, I gathered her up as one would a child. “Edwards, to my right. Constantin, my left,” I barked. “An eye to the shadows, men, and double-time back to the Palace.”

De Sardet tensed in my arms and whispered. “I can walk now.”

“We’ll move faster through the street this way, Green Blood. Just keep pressure on that wound.”

Leaning her head against my shoulder, she pressed hard on her wound, the four of us moved as quickly as possible through the dark streets of Serene until we reached the palace. 

“Put me down,” de Sardet begged me quietly. “Mother will be frightened.”

“She will be frightened in any case. That wound needs stitches.”

“Ah, well. Let me deal with Mother. Good night, Kurt.”

Once de Sardet was safely inside, I rounded on Constantin. “Are you totally without sense? I thought you loved your cousin?”

Constantin’s eyes went wide. “I do! She is the only person in the world who treats me with respect and love.”

“And do you not think she deserves the same respect and love in return?” I was speaking out of turn. I knew it, but I could not stop myself. “You constantly drag her into danger, into places and situations where you risk her very life!”

I watched my young charge get hold of his senses and retort, “Amalie doesn’t protest. She is always willing to—”

“Willing? Did you not see the concern, the hesitation in her eyes, in her very demeanor as you dragged her into that piss-hole?” Before he could protest, I added, “She follows you because she worries for your safety, and because your father insists that she be your guardian! Lady de Sardet loves you, my lord, and it is for that love of her life-long companion and relative that she goes with you, not for her own sake.” I expected him to react with anger, to strike me, or demand that I remember my place, but I was mistaken. Constantin cocked his head to one side, his gaze fixed past me into something only he could see. When he looked at me, I saw that he understood.

“You are right, Kurt. I have been selfish and oblivious to her feelings. But—I need these forays, I become so enraged inside—what am I to do?”

“Take someone else, Constantin. Take a young man like yourself.”

“How do I do that without hurting her feelings?” He asked me.

It took me but a second to reply, “Tell her you’re wanting a woman, and that she’d be in the way.”

Constantin laughed softly, a chuckle. “Yes, that might do. Come, Kurt, let’s hasten to our wing of the Palace.”

By the time I reached the barracks, Edwards had already relayed the tale of our adventures to those who were awake.

“By the blood, our future Prince is as reckless as a drunken Naught on leave,” Edward declared to the party.

“And he drags the beautiful rose into danger with him.” Another of the men said. “It would be a sin to see such a flower damaged.”

I realized that I was not the only common man who saw de Sardet’s charm. “That rose has thorns,” I warned. “She is well-guarded by both the power of her birth and the training I have given her. You’d be smart to remember her place and yours when you speak of her. Casting hopes in her direction could make you a head shorter or your neck a little longer.”

“Oh, aye, Kurt. But admit it, you must find it…tempting.”

“I do not,” I lied. “To me, she is still the little girl I train.” Before the man could query further, I said, “Enough. Take my advice or not. Just be aware of the consequences.” I walked away to my bunk.

  


  1. **Amalie**



I do not know what occurred after Kurt literally carried me home, but Constantin never invited me to his forays into the deepest underbelly of Serene after that, and I was grateful. Constantin began to chase skirts with other young nobles of the court. Surprisingly, his father did not object.

By my eighteenth birthday, my Uncle was sending me on diplomatic missions with his ambassadors to the City-States of the Bridge Alliance and Theleme. Ostensibly, I was there as the secretary to take notes. In reality, I was there to learn and to spy on my Uncle’s ambassadors. While I am certain that those whom I accompanied knew why I was there, they nevertheless, learned to accept and then appreciate my involvement. Yes, I reported back faithfully to my Uncle, but I did not share anything other than information strictly related to the situation at hand, and I discovered that I was very good at helping others achieve consensus.

My life was almost all I could wish it to be. I had rank and place in my Uncle’s court. I had a future before me as an ambassador to the other states on our continent. I was courted by many handsome young men, danced with many and kissed more than a few. I could have had lovers, but I always demurred when it came to taking that last step. And yet, I was content, for often it was Kurt who accompanied me on my sojourns as my bodyguard. His silent presence was a reminder of what I truly desired in a man and none of the others who came near lived up to him in my eyes. Things may have gone on that way for all my life, but in the year of my twenty-third birthday, everything changed.

Kurt, Constantin, and I were at morning sword practice when a we were interrupted when a courtier from the Prince’s chambers appeared. “His Highness needs Lord Constantin and Lady de Sardet to come to his chambers forthwith.”

“A moment, I should change,” I said, but the man shook his head.

“My apologies my lady, but the Prince wants you immediately.”

We followed without another word.

I expected that we would be taken to the throne room, but I was mistaken. We were shown into the Prince’s private chambers behind the throne room. Once we were inside, Kurt turned to leave, but his Highness stopped him. “Stay, Kurt. I want you to hear this as well for you are most closely concerned with my son’s and niece’s safety.”

Kurt stopped by the door.

My Uncle stood, arms crossed, as if he were holding himself in place. He said nothing for a very long moment as if he had forgotten our presence, yet never had I seen him so upset. Finally, he returned to us from wherever he’d gone to in his head and pointed to the chairs around his table.

“Sit, all of you.”

We took chairs, and waited.

The Prince pointed to papers on the table. “For some months now, we have had growing reports of an unusual disease among our people, a debilitating disease that turns the blood black and slowly poisons all the organs in the body. The patient’s face becomes hideously scarred, and the pain they experience—I am told—is unbelievable, horrible, and so far, we’ve found nothing to ameliorate it. Many go insane, a number commit suicide.”

“How have we not heard of it?” I asked.

“Until now, the cases have been few enough to keep hidden, but rumors have begun and the disease is spreading.”

Constantin leaned forward, putting his forearms on the table “Is it communicable?”

The Prince almost smiled at that. “Good question, but no, not in the usual sense,” the Prince replied. “In some cases, it strikes one member of a family but no one else who has come in contact with the person who is ill. On the other hand, we have seen entire families stricken in remote areas with no contact with other victims.” He started pacing the room, back and forth. “Our doctors are confounded, and I have discovered that the Bridge Alliance and Theleme are also suffering from this disease with the same lack of success in treatment.”

More confident than I had seen my cousin in some time, he inquired, “You’ve told the Council nothing of this?”

“No, only those whose holdings have been affected know, and I threatened them with everything I had on them to keep them quiet, but it has grown too large and the truth will out.”

“What do you need for us to do, Uncle?” I asked

“Constantin, I need for you behave as a future ruler should behave. Be calm, be reasonable. We shall have to increase security here in Serene. The people will not be happy with this news. Kurt, I want you to be certain that your most loyal comrades are a part of my family’s security detail. “I will tell Torsten that I want you and only you to oversee this.”

Kurt and I exchanged glances. So, the Prince had lost confidence in the Commander of the Coin Guard. I could see that Kurt was as curious about this as I, but we said nothing.

“Amalie, I want you to tour the Congregation, every village, every sea port, and I want you to interview every physician you can. I need an accurate count of how many are affected by this malady, the symptoms they note, the speed of infection. Take a large group of the palace pigeons with you as I wish ongoing reports.”

“Uncle, a pigeon can carry so little,” I said.

“Death toll, percentage of the population affected for the pigeons. Couriers can bring the rest,” Uncle replied.

Kurt, who had been standing quietly in the background took a step forward. “Your Highness, may I accompany Lady de Sardet as her primary bodyguard? I am confident of our security staff here and will make even more certain of their competence and loyalty before we depart; however, in the hinterlands, I can have no assurance of the local guards being up to our standards.”

“Excellent suggestion, Kurt. Make ready then. I want you both to leave as soon as possible.”

It was difficult for me to hide my smile at this news. Despite my calm exterior, I was thrilled to be going on such an adventure even though the circumstances were so very serious. With the exception of our annual summer retreat to the hills above Serene, we seldom left the City, so a journey around the entire province would be the first time that I truly had a chance to see more of our lands.

I practically ran through the courtyards that separated my mother’s apartments in the palace from the Council chambers, eager to share the news. “Mama,” I cried out, “Where are you?”

“Upstairs, my darling girl,” she responded.

I found her in her wardrobe room changing out of her morning clothes and into a day gown.

“Uncle wants me to tour our country and take a survey of those stricken with the Malichor.”

Mother smiled and held out her arms to me. “How exciting!! My brother is an excellent judge of character. You will do well, my girl.” We hugged a long moment and then she slipped an arm around my waist as we walked toward the door. “We need to decide what clothing you will need. Certainly, you need your favorites, your breeches and coats. Still, you must take a dress or two. It isn’t only the ordinary folk you will be seeing.”

“Kurt is going as my bodyguard.”

“Ah, that is good. He will protect you, always.” Mother grew serious as she took my hands and squeezed them gently. “Look at me, Amalie,”

When I met her eyes, she continued, “I know you have feelings for him, but remember: He is much older and, I fear, a sadder man than you know. He is a servant to this house— “

“As if that mattered to me!” I cried pulling my hands from hers.

“But it does, to him, my dear. He is many things, among them, a proud man and a damaged one. Do not take advantage of him, Amalie. Do not force him into a relationship that he may not want but submits to out of duty and loyalty to this family.”

“You cannot mean— “

“Kurt is a strong man, but underneath, I sense a great deal of pain. Do not add to that pain, my dear.”

I didn’t understand, not truly, but I trusted Mama who always seemed so perceptive about everyone she met. “I promise. Besides, he has already made it plain that our relationship is strictly a professional one.”

“Ah, I see,” Mother replied. “Truly, a good man.”

We went on to my dressing room and began sorting my clothes for the trip.

  


  


  


  1. **Kurt**



Damn! I butted into the Prince’s conversation without thinking. Stupid that, he might have flogged me for such temerity, but my reaction was instinctive. De Sardet is an amazingly intelligent woman but she _is_ green as spring grass. Our territories are relatively peaceful, but that doesn’t mean they are without danger. Bandits, wild animals, and even hostile villagers do exist. Until now, de Sardet has only met violence in the training ring and in taverns with her cousin. I have to be there when she faces it in reality.

To my relief, the Prince neither resented my interference, nor dismissed it. Instead, he chose to act on it and allow me to accompany de Sardet. His Highness seldom punished good sense; he usually took advice that was sound and logical no matter who gave it.

I did not feel remiss in my duties to the Prince’s family at all. Constantin would be safe enough at his father’s court. The Prince had his own secret guard that was not a part of the Coin Guard at all, but rather chosen by the Prince himself and trained by me and one other combat expert that he trusted. They were hidden among the servants of the castle, posing as gardeners, cooks, stone masons, floor scrubbers, and other seemingly invisible people. No one noticed them, but they were highly trained to defend the Prince’s family at a second’s notice. No, Constantin would be well guarded. it was Green Blood that needed my experience.

We began the journey less than a week later in a cart filled with camping gear, clothing, ammunition and equipment for de Sardet’s pistols, empty vials, and pigeons, a great many of the bloody things. I was dressed in my field uniform, though my dress uniform was packed away in the cart. Green Blood was wearing her breeches, coat, and wide-brimmed hat. With her hair tucked up and hidden, she could easily pass for a young man at a distance though only at a distance. She and the wagon were waiting for me at the palace gate.

“Oh, Kurt, this is going to be such an adventure!” de Sardet said, whirling about, arms raised joyously above her head.

“An adventure indeed, Green Blood, but one that will have its dangers,” I admonished. “Now is when you must attempt to practice what I have taught you. We will face more than one enemy on this journey.”

She lost that joyous look, became quite serious. I hated being the one to take away that excitement. Her mother came forward and kissed de Sardet’s cheeks. “Be well, my dear daughter.” Turning to me, Lady de Sardet said, “Kurt good journey. Stay safe, and keep her safe for me.”

I bowed my head. “I shall guard her with my life, Lady de Sardet.”

“I believe you.” The lady replied.

With that we were off, and in less than an hour, the gates of the city were behind us. We headed inland riding with our driver, but our wagon moved so slowly that I became restless. Jumping down, I began to walk. That felt better. A second later, Green Blood was beside me walking as well, careful to walk to my left leaving my right hand free to grab my sword if needed.

“Watch for unexpected movement in the brush with your peripheral vision,” I told her as we walked along. “There is a natural rhythm to the movement of the grass and brush caused by the wind. Once you feel it, you will know when the brush is being moved by an animal or a human because it looks different.”

“I see, and also hear?” She asked.

I laughed. “Indeed. It sounds different as well. Now, quiet, and listen.”

We walked in silence, settling into an easy pace with the wagon. It was a good day to be on the road, the sun’s heat dissipated by a gentle breeze. De Sardet bounced along, her joy at being out and away from the court obvious. She gazed about with interest at the rock formations, and stopped from time to time to gather plants, grasses, and fungi for distillations, potions and poultices. She had an agile mind, a bright mind, and she was quickly mastering many skills, not the least of which was her herb lore. Seeing that her pockets were quickly filling to the brim, I jumped up into the wagon and found a large leather pouch with a sturdy shoulder strap. Handing it to her, I said, “Here Green Blood, for your herbs.”

“Thank you, I—” she lowered her voice, “—to our left, not an animal, the smell.”

She was right. I caught the odor of unwashed humans as well. “Ready yourself,” I murmured.

She unobtrusively pushed her coat free of her scabbard as she continued the same easy pace. Our driver saw our preparations and slowly cocked the pistol he kept at the ready. “How many?” I asked under my breath, though I knew the answer.

“Three, no, no, four,” she told me in hand signs.

With the barest nod of my head, I acknowledged her response. There wasn’t time for more. With a yell, one of the bandits began a run at us. I unsheathed my Zwiehänder, “Move away, Green Blood, things are about to get dicey.”

I needn’t have said a word, for de Sardet had rolled away and to my left, well out of the range of my sword’s arc, her own blade drawn and ready. A second later, I was too much engaged in combat with a man who swung an axe as large as my sword. I heard a woman’s cry, and almost lost my own head to the axe before I realized it was not de Sardet’s voice. Forcing myself to concentrate, I put my full attention on remaining alive.

My opponent was very good, but an axe is slower than a sword, and after a few strokes and parries, I managed to slice through his leathers and catch some flesh along the way with my forward swing, finding more with my back hand. Despite that, he put me on the ground with the flat of his axe and was coming around with the sharp end when the sound of a pistol rang out, and he dropped to the ground. I got to my feet in time to see our driver reloading his weapon while de Sardet was busy in a frenzied duel with a man about twice her size. There was no chance for me to intervene as another bandit was hard on me with a kick to my hip, knocking me back to the ground. I drew my dagger and managed to thrust into the bandit’s thigh. His pain bought me enough time to get to my feet put not enough to recover my sword.

“Kurt!” I turned in time to see a Falchion flying toward me. I managed to grab it without doing too much damage to my hand. Now, at least I had a sword. Facing off with my opponent, we sparred back and forth for some time. He was a good swordsman, and I was out of practice with a one-handed blade (and cursing myself for letting it slide), but he stepped on a rock and twisted sideways. It was all I needed. With a quick thrust, I managed to skewer him through the belly. He tried to riposte, but a shot rang out and a ball entered his forehead exploding the back of his skull. He dropped, and I turned to see that it was de Sardet who fired the shot. I picked up my Zwiehänder and came to her side.

I saw her begin to shake; eyes wide. She and Constantin had sparred, had been in a tavern brawl or two, but to my knowledge, this was her first true battle. This was different. “Need to puke, Green Blood? You wouldn’t be the first.”

“No, I—” she turned and rushed for the bushes. A moment later, she returned and I handed her the water bag. After a swish and spit she drank, and I drank as well before passing the bag to Diesel.

“Welcome to the club, Green Blood.” He said.

She looked from him to me. “We’ve all been there, Lady de Sardet. The first time changes you,” I explained. Before she could say anything more, I nodded toward the wagon. “Climb up. Let us ride for a time.” 

She surprised me by saying, “Am I supposed to feel regret? Or despair? They wanted to kill us, not just take our things, but take our lives. I don’t regret taking theirs instead.” Her expression changed from certainty to doubt as she turned to me for direction. “Am I a monster? Does that make me a monster?”

“Does it?” I retorted refusing to give her my opinion.

She thought about it and when she met my eyes shook her head decisively. “No. It does not. I did not enjoy killing them. It’s just that I don’t regret it.”

Diesel and I both laughed at the same time. De Sardet’s head turned back and forth from me to Diesel and back again. “No, Green Blood, you are no monster, but you may very well be a warrior.”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“When it came down to it, you did what you had to do to survive and keep your comrades alive. That is what a warrior does.” I explained “Until the moment comes…training only carries you so far. There has to be that will to triumph.”

Once again, de Sardet went inward for a long moment. Then she nodded once. “Qu’il en soit ainsi – So be it.”

“Oui.” I replied. “Now, wagon, my lady. We are wasting daylight.”

“Very well, Kurt.”

  


  1. **Amalie**



We rode until two hours before sunset and halted to make camp. I was a bit lost. While I had excellent combat skills, thanks to my weapons master, I was, in essence, a City girl. My forays into the countryside were few and far between and accompanied by a host of servants. Ironically, it was I who ended up being the fetcher. “Fetch this, fetch that, hold this, hold that.” My mother’s servants would have laughed, and yet I was happy enough to be the servant, this evening. It was all so new and different.

It had taken me some time to settle down from our first martial encounter. When my stomach reacted after the battle, I gave Kurt the answer he expected while I sorted my feelings out. I realized after thinking it through, that I did not feel regret or remorse for taking life. At least, not much. It saddened me a little to think of the waste, of what might have been for those who died but that was all. I did not regret saving myself or him. It did, however, cause me to think of how I must become an excellent intermediary, a legate, a weaver of compacts and compromise so that taking life is my last resort and never my first.

All this was running through my head as I acted as servant and set up camp. Soon we had a fire and warm food and drink. The three of us sat, content, near the fire.

“Are you truly well, Greenblood?” Kurt asked, cup of tea in hand, eyes focused on me, evaluating me.

“I am well, but comprehend that it is wiser to negotiate, conciliate, and bargain than use violence to achieve my goals.”

Nodding his head over his cup, he said, “A seemly decision, Lady de Sardet.” Looking into my eyes he added, “I’ve been a soldier all my life, and combat and battle are all I know, but many times, there is a better way, and I believe you will learn to achieve that better way.”

I blushed at the compliment, the frank admiration in his expression.

At that, he laughed.

“You must somehow learn not to do that, Green Blood,” he teased. “Your red cheeks will give you away.”

“I shall research a remedy, Master,” I responded. Before he could say more, I yawned. Rising to my feet, I finished my drink and headed for my makeshift bed. “Goodnight, Kurt, Diesel.”

“Good night, Lady de Sardet,” came the response. As I settled into sleep, I heard the two men talking.

“Why do you sometimes call her Green Blood and at other times by her honorific?”

“I am Lady de Sardet’s Weapons Master, and when we are dealing with matters of arms and combat, I generally call her Green Blood so that we both are clear about who is leading at that moment. But at other times, I am but her bodyguard, she is my mistress, and so I refer to her with her title as is appropriate.”

“That has to be difficult.” Diesel mused. “You are a Captain of the Coin Guard who serves in the Prince’s household. Do you not find it difficult to step back after leading?”

“Not in matters of State. Lady de Sardet is young, but she is being trained by the Prince himself to be his legate. She must begin somewhere, and this journey is that place. She is intelligent and empathetic, and I am proud to let her lead in matters of diplomacy and politics. And I will do my best to keep her safe as well as her cousin. That is my task.”

_Is that all I am to him?_ I wondered. _Please, let me be more than that to him, at the very least let me be a comrade in arms._ I took a deep breath, let it out and willed my body and mind to stillness and sleep.

As we traveled farther away from Serene the encounters with bandits became fewer though animal encounters increased. I learned that combat came upon you suddenly, often when you were least likely to be in the mood and more likely not to see the beast behind you. I sustained a nick or two, and more than a few bruises, but Kurt kept me safe as did Diesel. I did not grouse about the aches and pains, and I think my Weapons Master was satisfied with me.

We reached our first village in the early afternoon three days after my initiation. Not large by any means, the village did sport an inn and a market where we were able to find some fresh vegetables. I walked among the stalls, perusing the vegetables.

“Fresh onions, firm potatoes, parsnips, carrots, and radishes, my lady,” a woman said, indicating her wares.

The vegetables did look fresh, and I pointed to the ones I desired. After we haggled happily over the price, I asked, “Do you have a healer in town?”

“Are you ill, my lady?” she asked.

“Not ill, exactly, but I need some headache powders.”

“Ah, well, there is Nan Howell. She delivers babies, but she also makes potions, simples, and poultices.”

“And where may I find Mistress Howell?”

The woman pointed down the lane. “See the cot with the dark slate roof?”

“Yes,” I nodded as I spied to cottage.

“She should be there.”

I handed her an extra silver. “Thank you for your time, Mistress.”

“Thank you, milady.”

I walked down the dirt lane to the small hut the woman indicated and knocked at the door.

“Come in my lady,” a voice said beyond the doorway.

I opened the door and stepped inside. A woman about my mother’s age was at a workbench, using a mortar and pestle to combine herbs together. Herbs, flowers and other plants hung upside down from the open rafters of the hut. Behind the woman was a large shelf filled with vials, jars, and boxes of all different sizes and colors.

“How did you know—”

“Who you were?” The woman smiled at me. “It’s is a small village, my lady. Word travels fast.” She wiped her hands on her apron and came around her work table. “How may I serve you?” she inquired.

“Our Prince has asked me to survey the health of the members of the Congregation. He is interested in knowing how your villagers are doing, if their health is good, if you have seen new or unusual diseases among them.” I paused. “You know I am Lady de Sardet, how do I address you?”

“Mistress Howell will do.” She indicated one of two chairs at a small table. I sat, and she took the other chair.

“Our Highness is concerned. While the villagers here seem to be reasonably healthy, the usual maladies caused by ill humors and poor diets, in the towns to the north, I have heard troubling tales of a new disease, one that is fatal.”

“Do you know the names of the towns?” I asked.

“Yes. Have you a map? I can mark them for you.”

I gave her my map, and she marked three routes to the larger towns in the north for me. When she looked up once more, she studied my face. “Your mark is unusual, but I have seen a similar mark before, on the face of a young man from the Island of Teer Fradee. He was in the company of a merchant who had returned from the island. I asked him about it and he told me that many of his people bore such marks. I also asked him why he’d chosen to leave his land. He said that it was not his choice.”

I touched my mark without thinking. “That is—are you certain? It was not his choice? Do you know the name of this merchant? Where he—”

She smiled. “No, my lady. I do not remember the merchant’s name, but the boy with him? Oh, yes, quite. Your mark and his are unlike anything I have seen down to the unusual colors.”

“Strange.”

“Yes, but nothing to worry about, my lady. The mark is quite harmless.” She smiled. “Is there anything else I may do for you?”

I shook off my questions about my mark. “Yes, I could use some herbs for distilling, perhaps you have some in stock?”

I left her hut a short while later and went in search of Kurt and Diesel. I found them both eyeing the livestock for sale both deep in discussion when I came upon them.

“But, why do you prefer the Cordially over the Cheviot?” Kurt was asking.

“My father always said you got good mutton and wool from the Cordially. The Cheviot mutton is ample and delicious, but the wool is not as fine. The meat feeds the family, but the wool provides the gold.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” Kurt said.

“Are you both planning to become shepherds?” I asked.

They both laughed. “Well, unless you die in battle, the day comes when you are just too old to soldier. Shepherd is a good vocation. Daily walks outdoors, the occasional battle with wolves or other predators, and a constant supply of good eating. It’s is not a bad way to retire,” Diesel explained.

I could not help but smile. It was hard to imagine Kurt and Diesel as shepherds, but I could see the appeal. “And what about me. Do you think I would make a good shepherdess? Crook in one hand, lamb in the other?”

“I would certainly want to follow your flock, my lady,” Diesel replied, eyes bright with amusement.

Kurt did not smile. “Did you learn anything?”

I replied with equal brevity. “Yes. Three towns to the north.”

“My lady, do you wish to stay at the inn this evening, or shall we make camp?” Kurt asked, still all business.

“Camp, I think. We have some hours of travel until sunset.”

“Very well.”

With that we started north once more and made good time putting many miles behind us. Imagining what we might find in the towns to the north, I didn’t notice the lack of camaraderie until we made camp and I took my turn to make dinner. Diesel and I traded stories, but Kurt only spoke when we asked him a question.

I gathered the dishes and water flasks, intending to walk down to the pond nearby. Kurt rose and took up his sword. “Night time. Animals come out to drink,” was all he said. Nodding, I walked in silence until we were out of earshot.

“Have I trod amiss?” I asked.

Kurt frowned and kept walking for a moment. He took a breath and stopped. “No, my lady. You cannot help being—” he stopped, shook his head and sighed. “You are charismatic, genuine, and truly interested in your fellow human beings. You attract people to you like, like moths to flame.” He gestured toward the pond, and we began to walk again. “You must be careful, my lady, careful that in your innocence you do not offer more than you intend.”

I wasn’t that innocent, or at least I understood his meaning. “You mean Diesel. I am being too familiar with him?”

“Yes—no—perhaps, my lady. You would be heartbroken if without meaning to, you encouraged that young man to approach you. He would be severely punished.”

That was true. My uncle would never countenance familiarity of that sort, even if I had encouraged it. This I knew. “Very well, I shall be more guarded in future.”

“I am sorry, Greenblood.” Kurt’s voice was filled with regret.

“No, you were right to counsel me so.” I smiled. “Please do not regret teaching me a lesson, even one that stings. You ever do so for my good. I know that, Master.” I continued walking toward the pond, thinking about what Kurt had said. He was right; I represented my Uncle on this adventure, and so I must be careful not to step outside the bounds of my charge. Circumspection was the order of the day. This was my thought as I lay down for sleep by the fire. As I drifted off, it occurred to me that perhaps Kurt saw himself as being like Diesel, too far beneath me. If this was true, how was I to convince him otherwise? I knew my Sword Master’s strength of will, his determination to do things correctly. If this was his thinking, I might never sway him to my side.

  1. **Kurt**



Greenblood was much subdued the next day. Still kind, but a little detached, allowing Diesel and me to carry most of the conversation. I wrestled with my own conscience as we rode north. Had I spoken to the girl out of genuine concern, or out of my own weakness, not wanting her to form ties with another man in front of me. I went back and forth over this conundrum in my mind. I certainly found it difficult to watch Lady de Sardet while she danced and laughed with the young men of the court, but the more rational part of my mind and heart knew that she destined for some other man, one of high degree. Aside from that, even if I were noble, I was ten years older than she. I must appear ancient in her eyes. These were facts I had to accept.

Yet, my advice to her was not wrong. On the contrary, it was sound. Our liege lord would have plans for de Sardet. No one attached to his household was overlooked when it came to cementing alliances. I had even been privy to a conversation with his sister in which he urged her to remarry to someone who could cement an important alliance. Only the fact that her dead husband’s family was influential kept the Prince from marrying his sister off to another man in order to gain some political goal. De Sardet, despite her unusual birthmark, was a high prize to win for any noble, and the competition for her favor was keen indeed. For the moment, her value to him lay in her relationship to Constantin. Should that relationship cool, the Prince would find another use for her.

I ruminated on these facts as we traveled north for the next two days. Fortunately, we had no more bandit encounters as we stopped at villages along the way, though we battled a few wild animals. In each village, De Sardet made discreet inquiries regarding the health of the villagers. Aside from the usual ailments that afflicted us all, they reported nothing new or strange. Still, my lady took samples of the soil and the water and even managed to charm some of the villagers out of a hair sample. Each was carefully labeled with the location and date of the sample, and for the biological samples, the sex and age of the donor.

At each campsite, De Sardet did rudimentary testing on a portion of each sample but found nothing untoward. “I don’t understand; we must not be far enough north yet.” She looked up from her seat at the fire as I approached. “I see no sign of an unusual illness.”

Distracted by the firelight bouncing off her shining hair, it took me a moment to think. “Perhaps there is another answer, my lady,” I managed to say. “So far, we have seen only villages, rural, agricultural hamlets. We’ve yet to investigate a city.” I offered at last.

“That may be, or perhaps we’ve just been unlucky.”

“Do not be discouraged. It is early days yet.”

She smiled and relaxed a little. “Yes, of course. Early days.”

I watched as she put her things away and made ready for sleep. I turned away. “Sleep well, Greenblood.”

Our road took us to the bank of the river that flowed from the northern mountains down to Serene on the coast. The view was spectacular, a rushing river of fast-flowing water, that tumbled downward toward our coastal city. As we traveled toward our first city, I noted that the clear water we enjoyed and appreciated began to cloud. Two days later, the water was quite opaque and had an odor, not of animal waste or algae, but of some metallic thing.

“Greenblood, do you notice the smell?” I asked as we walked along the road.

“Yes. Yes, I—it’s, I taste metal.”

“Exactly, and it comes from the river there,” I added walking toward the bank. Indeed, the water was not clear, but rather murky, or cloudy. On a whim, I gathered some of the river water in an empty water skin and marked it with a colored leather tie so that we did not drink it by accident. “Perhaps one of His Highness’s chemists can tell us what is in the water.” I gazed about once more and sought the position of the sun. "We'd best be about it. We need to reach the city by sundown."

"Right." De Sardet returned to the wagon and we made our way forward to Vives, the first major city on our expedition. I had been here before, more than once, when the Prince's army journeyed north on repeated sorties against Theleme or the Bridge Alliance. I knew my way around; that is, I knew the location f the guard barracks, the taverns, and the Mayor's palace. The rest of the city was unknown to me, but little else. It concerned me, but. I needn't have worried. The moment De Sardet presented herself, all was taken from my hands. The Prince had arranged all ahead of time, including a house for De Sardet's use. When we arrived there, a messenger met us with an invitation to the mayoral palace for dinner.

  


  


  


  



End file.
